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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033913">The Cromwell Creation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/pseuds/ETNMystic'>ETNMystic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mystic's Original Works (Possibly Transferred From My Other Accounts On Other Writing Sites) [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I don't think, NOT RAPE, SO, This is a weird one, and some implants, but there are dolls, cw blood, cw dolls, cw forced implants, cw injection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:08:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/pseuds/ETNMystic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Victoria gets to go to an architect school in England, but has to stay with her grandparents.</p><p>That doesn't seem too bad, right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mystic's Original Works (Possibly Transferred From My Other Accounts On Other Writing Sites) [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Cromwell Creation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Honestly, it begins just like every other summer.</p><p class="p1">Except I'm going to college next year. My parents paid for my tuition to this amazing architectural design college in England. There's only one condition; I have to stay with my uptight grandparents while I'm there or I'll have to pay for my own place. And God knows I don't have the money for that.</p><p class="p1">"Oh stop pouting, Vi," my dad says as he drives me from the airport in Bristol.<br/>"It'll be fun. You'll get to live in a big house and there'll probably be secret rooms you can explore."</p><p class="p1">That's the only thing that makes going there tolerable; as an architectural design major, secret rooms are my jam.</p><p class="p1">"I know," I groan.<br/>"But Grandma and Grandpa Cromwell are so uptight. They told me I can't wear jeans. I'll be the laughing stock of the entire major if I'm forced to wear stuffy dresses all the time."</p><p class="p1">"I know their ways of living are a bit different than how you're used to, but think of it as a chance to learn about a new culture."</p><p class="p1">"British culture isn't actually all that new. Oh great, we're almost there."</p><p class="p1">We pull into the large cul-de-sac and I'm actually kind of taken in awe. In spite of my dread of having to live with my grandparents for the whole summer AND all four years I go to college, it's been years since I've actually been to their place, so I had little memory as to what it looked like.</p><p class="p1">"Good afternoon," says a maid waiting outside of the manor. Her voice is very polite, perhaps a bit too polite.</p><p class="p1">"Hello, Claudia," my dad greets her.<br/>"Do you know where my parents are?"</p><p class="p1">"They're out."</p><p class="p1">She glances down at me. I can't quite describe how she moves, except that it's sort of robotic. However you'd describe it, it kind of freaks me out.</p><p class="p1">"This must be Lady Victoria."</p><p class="p1">"Vi is fine," I tell her.</p><p class="p1">"Duly noted. Thank you for delivering her, Young Lord Cromwell. I shall take it from here."</p><p class="p1">Delivering me? Must be the way they take in this part of England. I shrug and follow Claudia inside.</p><hr/><p class="p1">As soon as my dad leaves, I realize that this is the beginning of four years of strict dress code and behavior.</p><p class="p1">"Now, Lady Victoria. I have been instructed to read to you the schedule for the summer and the years to follow. You are to be up, out of bed, well-groomed, and dressed by no later than 8 o clock in the morning. Breakfast is served promptly then and should be finished no earlier or later than 9 o clock. After that you are to be taken to classes which shall end at 11:30, and by 11:45, you shall be back here and ready in time for dinner at noon sharp. You are to then return to classes at 13:00 until 14:45 and then be back for tea at 15:00. Tea shall end no sooner and no later than 16:00 at which time you shall have etiquette lessons---"</p><p class="p1">"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupt taken aback.<br/>"Etiquette lessons?"</p><p class="p1">"I have been ordered by Master and Mistress Cromwell to groom you to become a proper lady."</p><p class="p1">"Fuck that. I'm gonna be an architect and designer."</p><p class="p1">"Such language is not used here," she snaps suddenly.<br/>"And you must not mumble; it is not becoming of a proper lady. As I was saying. Etiquette lessons shall go until 17:45 in order for you to be ready for supper at 18:00. Supper shall be finished no sooner or later than 19:00 by which time, you shall focus on your class work until 20:00. At that time, you may do what you wish until 22:00, which is when you must be in bed."</p><p class="p1">Great. Only two hours to myself. And I can kiss sleeping in goodbye.</p><p class="p1">"What about the weekends and the rest of this summer?" I ask.</p><p class="p1">"I don't have classes then."</p><p class="p1">"Weekends are much different. You must still be up, groomed, and dressed by 8 o clock. When breakfast is finished at 9 o clock, you shall have lessons until noon sharp. Following the end of dinner at 13:00, Master and Mistress Cromwell have instructed me to give you more lessons. Later on, when you acquire the skills necessary to be presentable, we shall take trips into town where we shall have tea at various social gatherings for proper ladies. But we must be back by 17:45 in order to have supper at 18:00. Following supper's end at 19:00, you are allowed to do as you wish until 23:00, by which time you shall be in bed. And on Sundays, we shall forgo morning lessons in order to attend church. A proper Anglo-Saxon lady is one who is modest, Christ-fearing, and godly."</p><p class="p1">Great. I happen to be none of those.</p><p class="p1">"That is all. Please follow me, and I shall show you to the room Master and Mistress Cromwell have prepared for you."</p><p class="p1">When we arrive after hiking up two very tall flights of stairs, I find that it's actually very much worth it. The room, though old-fashioned, is decorated quite finely. The walls are painted a pretty lavender with gold dividing the top and bottom halves. The bed has a veil covering it, so I can actually have some privacy. There's a fireplace opposite of it, already crackling and for good reason. It's actually a bit chilly in this room. Overall the room's actually pretty nice.</p><p class="p1">"Sweet," I say as I flop onto the bed.</p><p class="p1">I hear Claudia sigh in disgrace as she leaves.</p><p class="p1">The atmosphere is honestly amazing. I feel eerily at peace here. I'm about to doze off when suddenly, I spy something on the armoire. Curiously, I sit up and I look to see this naked porcelain doll with tightly-curled blonde hair and creepily-blue eyes.</p><p class="p1">"What the hell?"</p><p class="p1">I walk over to it and, the second I touch it, something pricks me and a pearl of my blood gets onto this doll.</p><p class="p1">"Must be an old doll. Probably belonged to grandma," I rationalize.</p><p class="p1">I'm about to go back and lie down on the bed when I see this trail of clothing leading to my closet door. These clothes look to be the size of a doll's clothes and I'm thinking</p><p class="p1">"Maybe this is what that naked doll is supposed to be wearing."</p><p class="p1">I follow the trail and when I make it there, I open the closet door only to find that in the wall, there's another door.</p><p class="p1">"Okay. That's sketchy," I remark.</p><p class="p1">I gather the clothes and put them back on the doll. In all blue, she actually looks rather pretty, though there's still something incredibly unsettling about this doll.</p><p class="p1">"I think I'll call you Clarabelle," I tell her.</p><p class="p1">I decide to take Clarabelle with me and when I open the door, I discover a room that's lit with a small chandelier. In two straight lines, each one facing the other, are tiny beds and in each one is a doll except for the bed at the very end on the far right. I bring Clarabelle over to that bed and set her inside, tucking her in.</p><p class="p1">"There you go," I tell her.<br/>"Probably don't want to go wandering off again."</p><p class="p1">I stay inside to admire the place a bit more. I don't know why, but something about this place makes me feel like I'm meant to be there. It sends me a calming atmosphere and a calling. Something tells me I'm <em>needed</em> there. As I'm think this, Claudia calls me down for supper and I decide to come back when I have the chance.</p><hr/><p class="p1">That night, I toss and turn in my bed. I keep feeling an urge to go back into that doll room. It's as if I now NEED to be in that room to survive.</p><p class="p1">On top of it, when I asked Claudia about it at supper, she just told me that it's nothing. She's been here longer than I have, and I'm Cromwell's granddaughter. So why isn't she telling me these things?</p><p class="p1"><em>"Mama,"</em> I hear a baby voice call out.</p><p class="p1">Suddenly I swear I hear tiny knuckles rapping against the closet door.</p><p class="p1"><em>"Mother,"</em> cries another voice pleadingly.<br/><em>"Let us out, mother."</em></p><p class="p1">My heart begins to palpitate violently and the next thing I know I hear scratching against the door. And I'm not one who is easily scared, so something's got to be off.</p><p class="p1">Jumping out of bed, I run towards a chair in the corner of my room and push it in front of the closet door. I sit down on it for extra weight to keep it in place and I do my best to stay awake, but before I know it, I doze off.</p><p class="p1">When I wake up the next morning, I keep trying to convince myself it was just a dream, but there's a part inside of me that tells me it was real. So to pacify that part, I decide to check. I remove the chair and open the closet door to find Clarabelle sitting on the floor of the closet facing me. Grabbing my flashlight, I look behind the closet door and, sure enough, there are small scratch marks on the bottom.</p><p class="p1">"Maybe they were there before," I tell myself.</p><p class="p1">But something inside of me knows that that's bullshit.</p><hr/><p class="p1">At breakfast, I tell Claudia about what I heard and she tells me that it's simply my imagination. As it's Sunday, Claudia takes me to the local church for a two hour long sermon, but I can't focus on it at all. All I can focus on are all of what I heard last night. The rapping of knuckles, the scratching, the cries of "mommy" and "let us out." It invades my mind and nearly causes me to have a panic attack.</p><p class="p1">After lunch, I sit through etiquette lessons, nearly falling asleep twice. Because of this, Claudia decides to give up and I rush up to my room and try to get some rest. But once again, all I can hear is the scratching, the rapping, the cries.</p><hr/><p class="p1">This continues into September and October. All the while, I can't stop thinking about Clarabelle. It's as if her image has been engraved into my mind. Along with it, I start to feel a stronger pull towards that doll room. I end up spending a lot of my time inside of it, but I don't understand why. I also begin to develop a sort of motherly instinct towards the dolls, which makes no sense as they're not alive nor do I want any kids. But in my mind, there's a part of me that thinks they ARE alive, though I know they're not.</p><p class="p1">And whenever I tell Claudia about it, she keeps trying to convince me that it's just my imagination, which starts to seem even more sketchy to me. Why would she deny its existence when she knows this house better than me?</p><p class="p1">And another weird thing? I haven't seen Grandma or Grandpa Cromwell since I got here. I keep asking Claudia where the hell they are and her answer is always the same.</p><p class="p1">"They're out."</p><p class="p1">I don't think she means that they're out for lunch anymore.</p><p class="p1">One morning I'm coming down the stairs for breakfast when I hear Claudia talking on the telephone.</p><p class="p1">"She's convinced the dolls are alive, doctor. And that her grandparents are never here. I think the stress of moving here may be getting to her. I keep telling Master and Mistress Cromwell, but they just think it's a harmless fantasy. Yes, I think perhaps an extended stay may help her state of mind. Electroshock and insulin treatment? I don't see why not. What time? 16:00? Yes, that will be fine. A straitjacket? I doubt she'll be a danger to herself, but it never hurts to take extra precautions."</p><p class="p1">Oh shit. This chick is gonna commit me to the psych ward? I rush downstairs just in time for Claudia to finish her conversation.</p><p class="p1">"Thank you. We'll see you then."</p><p class="p1">She puts the phone back on the hook.</p><p class="p1">"What the fuck are you doing?" I exclaim angrily.</p><p class="p1">"I believe the stress of being so far from home is getting to you, Lady Victoria. A long stay in hospital is just what you need."</p><p class="p1">"No, <em>you</em> need to see that I'm not lying. Come on!"</p><p class="p1">I grab her hand and pull her up to my room. I throw the closet door open and there's Clarabelle sitting on the floor.</p><p class="p1">"I swear, I keep placing her in the doll room every night, but this is where she is every morning," I exclaim.</p><p class="p1">I show her the scratches too and then I throw open the door to the doll room. Sure enough, those dolls are not where I remember them being. Clarabelle's bed is empty and the rest of the dolls are standing by their beds.</p><p class="p1">"See? Now do you believe me?" I ask Claudia.</p><p class="p1">There's no reply. I turn around only to find that Claudia is gone.</p><p class="p1">"Claudia?" I call out.</p><p class="p1">No answer. I suddenly feel a blow to the head and everything goes dark.</p><hr/><p class="p1">I wake up, everything appearing in a blur. Above me stands a foreboding figure. Once my vision recovers, I find that it's Claudia.</p><p class="p1">"Wha-what happened?" I ask dazed.</p><p class="p1">"I was hoping you would leave it be," she hisses.<br/>"But you just <em>had</em> to know, didn't you?"</p><p class="p1">I try to stand up, but end up face first on the ground. I look to find that my arms and legs are tied together in sturdy rope.</p><p class="p1">"What the hell is going on?"</p><p class="p1">"Language!" she snaps.<br/>"There are children in here."</p><p class="p1">"No, there aren't," I scoff.</p><p class="p1">"Yes, there are," she argues.</p><p class="p1">She gestures towards the dolls, still standing by their beds.</p><p class="p1">Why does she want to commit me to a psych ward? She's clearly the crazy one.</p><p class="p1">"You've got to be kidding me," I sigh.</p><p class="p1">"They need a mother's soul," Claudia says, her voice shaking maniacally.<br/>"So I decided to turn you into one. Unfortunately the lessons weren't working because these naughty, naughty children kept scratching at the door and waking you up."</p><p class="p1">She picks up Clarabelle and begins to scold her.</p><p class="p1">"You must have patience, darling. You'll have a mother soon."</p><p class="p1">"I'm not gonna be anyone's mother," I scoff.</p><p class="p1">"Oh yes, you will," Claudia says.<br/>"Your blood is bound to Clarabelle."</p><p class="p1">I don't know what she means until I remember the day I first came across Clarabelle. I had pricked my finger on her.</p><p class="p1">"And now for the finishing touch," she purrs evilly.</p><p class="p1">Walking over to a black case, she opens it up and takes out a syringe, a bottle, and some disinfectant wipes.</p><p class="p1">"It's a serum I developed myself," she says in a low voice as she pours the bottle inside of the syringe.</p><p class="p1">Walking back over to me, she begins to reach under my dress. I try to kick her away, but she pins my feet to the ground. She reaches inside the belly button with the disinfectant and rubs it inside before taking the needle and injecting it inside. I wince in pain as it pierces my skin. Then suddenly a new pain takes over. I begin to feel my insides, quite literally, shift around. Things are removed and new things are added.</p><p class="p1">"What's....happening.....to me?" I groan in agony.</p><p class="p1">"You're becoming a mother. Forever."</p><p class="p1">"What?"</p><p class="p1">"The serum I injected is supplying you with the right material needed to produce more doll children for an infinite period."</p><p class="p1">"Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't approve of it."</p><p class="p1">"They're not in charge of the house anymore. They're in her."</p><p class="p1">She holds up Clarabelle.</p><p class="p1">"What did you do to them?"</p><p class="p1">"Me?" she asks innocently.<br/>"I didn't do anything. It was Clarabelle who suggested I lock them in here. The dolls sucked out their souls and stuck them into her."</p><p class="p1">"But why me? And why dolls?"</p><p class="p1">"You're the closest resource. And dolls represent tradition. Dolls keep tradition alive. The world is moving and aging too quickly. But not dolls. Dolls never change."</p><p class="p1">"You're not gonna get away with this."</p><p class="p1">She stands up as my insides proceed to finish morphing. Reaching into her apron, she pulls out a remote and presses a button. I feel something drop into my abdomen and begin to grow rapidly.</p><p class="p1">"Oh, but I already have."</p><p class="p1">"What---did you do to me?" I gasp as I feel my abdomen growing.</p><p class="p1">"I've begun a creation. You are going to supply this manor with more doll children at my will. And no need to worry about your grades or your career. I already told the college you won't be coming back."</p><p class="p1">My face turns pale. All of that money that mom and dad used to pay for my tuition, gone to waste because some crazy woman wants more doll demon children?</p><p class="p1">"Honestly, Victoria," she sighs.<br/>"It's not entirely your fault. You were going to succumb to this fate eventually. Those lessons would've made you much more compliant though."</p><p class="p1">She stuffs the remote back in her apron.</p><p class="p1">"Anyways, I have to go orchestrate your death. I need something to show the doctors when they come to collect you. Enjoy your destiny, Victoria. After all, you have no other choice."</p><p class="p1">Her heels click against the floor as she heads to the door. Sliding it closed and leaving me be, I hear the click of a lock and, all of a sudden, the dolls' eyes light up.</p><p class="p1">"Oh shit," I whisper.</p><p class="p1">"Mama?" they all ask slowly.</p><p class="p1">I shake my head in a panic.</p><p class="p1">"No," I pant, beginning to hyperventilate.</p><p class="p1">Suddenly the dolls step out from beside their beds. Not a step is out of turn, which only adds to my fear.</p><p class="p1">"Mama," they all say slowly as they walk towards me with their arms outstretched.</p><p class="p1">"No, no. Stay away!" I begin to yell say as I begin to feel a greater pain in my abdomen.</p><p class="p1">"Mama, mama, mama, mama," they continue.</p><p class="p1">Tears begin to stream down my face as they're now nearing my toes.</p><p class="p1">"Stop it!" I scream in agony.<br/>"Stay back! Go away. This isn't real. This can't be happening."</p><p class="p1">"Oh but it is," a voice says evilly.</p><p class="p1">I glance down to see Clarabelle glaring at me menacingly. As the dolls crowd over me, I hear three words from her.</p><p class="p1">"Welcome home, mother."</p>
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